A Man Like No Other
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: As the Rebellion begins, Katniss is contacted by a mysterious old man who tells her of an age when heroes walked Earth, and requests her aid in reassembling the heroes of the past to face a nightmare that only he acknowledges the existence of...
1. Secrets of the Past

Disclaimer: _Avengers _and _Hunger Games_ belong to their relevant owners; I merely borrow them to write this story

Feedback: Always a pleasure to receive.

AN: This story starts shortly after _Catching Fire_ ended, and will expand into a new course of events from then on. For future reference, in this reality President Snow has no children for reasons that will be obvious later, but otherwise both series are the same as they were in canon; you'll learn more about how things come together as the plot unfolds

AN 2: Narrative wise, I will primarily stick to the original _Hunger Games _pattern and focus on Katniss's POV, but some later chapters will be told in the third person when focusing on the Avengers' roles in particular; hope you like it

A Man Like No Other

I had been lying in my room for a week before he came to me with the story that would change my life.

It had been a difficult time for me since I heard the news about the destruction of District Twelve, on top of Peeta being captured by the Capitol, and then all these people wanting me to be something for them…

I just couldn't _cope _with this; so much had happened because of my failures to go along with what Snow wanted.

Gale may have managed to evacuate a fair portion of the District, but the fact remained that they'd only suffered so much damage because I lived there; even if Prim and my mother were safe, so many other people were dead, and as for Peeta…

Everyone wanted me to be their Mockingjay, and I didn't know how to do it; I was never comfortable speaking to people one-to-one, and now I was expected to appeal to a whole _nation_…

God, this was a nightmare; everyone had expectations of me, and I barely even knew who to trust…

"Hello, Miss Everdeen," a voice said.

Looking up, I was surprised to see an unfamiliar old man standing in the door of my Compartment 307, looking at me with a solemn smile. His face was surprisingly smooth despite the weariness in his eyes making his age obvious, along with his pure white hair, but he gave the impression of being in at least the same shape as Mags, with the advantage that his gaze and speech were clear as opposed to her inability to communicate. I re-evaluated my thoughts on his physical health when I saw that his right arm and left leg were artificial, the ankle a deep red under his simple blue trousers and shirt while the right hand was a gold-and-red mix; he was in good shape, but he'd clearly suffered to get to this point.

"Not what you were expecting, mmm?" the man said, smiling at me as he raised his metallic right hand.

"Oh… I'm sor-" I began, uncomfortable at being caught out in my observation of his weakness.

"Don't worry; I'm used to it," the man said, still smiling reassuringly at me. "I'm responsible for co-ordinating most of District Thirteen's security arrangements, but I also have a more personal role as a historian, and I come to talk to you in that capacity; may I sit down?"

"Uh… of course," I said, indicating the seat beside my bed, puzzled at the man's overly formal nature, as though he was taking care when selecting each word, as well as the reason for his presence; after hearing how District Thirteen had survived through a secret 'deal' with the Capitol, what could be left for this man to tell me about its history?

"Well," the old man said, looking solemnly at me as he sat down, "as you're aware, before Panem, there was a time when the world was so much larger and more incredible than anything you can imagine… not at peace, but with everyone enjoying greater freedoms than what this world has to offer now, capable of going further and faster than anything available to you now… but what you probably aren't aware of is that, while it had problems as with any civilisation, these problems were significantly greater than anything we might experience today."

"I knew that-" I began; history might not have been my favourite subject at school, but I knew about the nuclear wars that had decimated the world…

"Did you?" the old man asked, turning around to look intently at me. "Did you know that, almost a century before the war that shattered the world, a madman discovered a source of power that allowed him to create and unleash weapons decades ahead of their time on the rest of the world? Did you know that a man dedicated to creating weapons abandoned his work after he created the most dangerous weapon ever built and saw the consequences of its use? Did you know that a man who sought only to help others and hated violence became the most physically powerful being on our planet through a freak accident that would have killed virtually anyone else? Did you know that a race of beings from another world once came to Earth and were so powerful we once worshipped them as gods?"

As the old man spoke, I wondered if my initial assessment of his mental state had been incorrect- everything he said just sounded more and more impossible than the last statement- but I somehow couldn't believe that he was as crazy as his story sounded.

Everything he spoke of sounded impossible- only a few details of what we'd been capable of before Panem remained; most likely the Capitol didn't want to encourage dissent by reminding us what we didn't have any more-, but the sincere clarity of his statements made it impossible to doubt the old man before me.

"No," I said at last. "I didn't."

"I didn't think you would have," the old man said with a slight smile. "Even when they were active, so few people knew everything about them…"

"Them?" I repeated.

"Come with me," the man said as he stood up, looking at me with an encouraging smile. "If you're going to appreciate this, you have to see it."

Grateful that I had dressed earlier- I'd just been lying on my bed because I didn't really know what else to do with myself any more- I stood up and walked after the man, ignoring the slight stares I was receiving from some of the other District Thirteen residents; for once, I had a feeling that it was the man with me who was attracting the stares, rather than me myself.

Whether through experience or lack of interest, the other man didn't seem to respond to the stares he was receiving. Instead, he simply smiled at a few of the people around him as he kept on walking, eventually reaching a particularly sturdy-looking door with a keypad and speaker beside it.

"Open Sesame," the man said, leaning over to speak into the speaker and tap in a number on the keypad. As the door opened, the man smiled and walked into the room, looking back at me to indicate that I could follow.

As we walked into the room, I could only stare at its contents in awe. Arrayed against one wall were seven man-sized objects; the first one seemed to be an assorted mix of grey metal, as though someone had put it together at relatively short notice out of whatever they could find, but the second one looked far more complete, and subsequent models demonstrated an impressive colour scheme combining red and gold in a very eye-catching manner. Incongruously, the objects on the next wall were a pair of strange gloves and a bow and arrow; the bow seemed more elaborate than any I had seen before, but otherwise it didn't seem to compare to the armours beside it. The same wall display included a large round shield, with a red and white circular pattern progressing towards a central blue circle with a large white star, while a small pillar between the two walls was topped by a glass case that held a short-handled metal hammer with a leather strap on the end.

"What are these?" I asked, looking at the weapons in amazement.

Even if the gloves in particular seemed like nothing special, something about the way these objects were displayed gave the impression that they were not only important beyond their obvious function as weapons, but that they… belonged together…

"Relics of that long-ago world of danger," the old man said, grinning as he looked around the room. "As the world became more dangerous, one man had an idea…"

He paused for a moment, reaching up to wistfully stroke the shield with his flesh hand, before he continued speaking, his tone becoming more passionate as he reflected on these memories. "That idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, each one possessing skills, abilities, and courage far above the norm, so that when the world needed them to face the greater threats being created now, these men and women could fight the battles that no other could."

"Oh," I said, lost for what else to say. "Who… who were they?"

"Earth's mightiest heroes," the old man said, a wistful smile on his face as he looked at the weapons around him. "A billionaire industrialist who controlled the greatest weapon of all to stop others using them, a scientist with the raw power of a monster and the heart of a hero, two master assassins who never lost sight of what mattered, the world's first and only super-soldier, and a literal god… five men and one woman, deprived of a peer anywhere else on Earth, found something in each other that led them to prevail against the greatest threat Earth had ever seen…"

For a moment, I couldn't help but smile at the story- even without specific details, there was something about the way this man told it that really made me _feel _what he was talking about- but then I took in his solemn expression and realised that, however this story ended, it wasn't a happy one.

"What happened to them?" I asked.

"They fell when parting ways after their first mission," the man said with a sigh, his smile vanishing as he moved on to a more painful topic. "The billionaire was outmanoeuvred by an insane weapons developer with more ambition than sense, the assassins exhausted their luck on some dangerous assignments, the god lost his will after his lover died, and the scientist and the soldier… let's just say they weren't the same after the others fell."

"Oh," I said, suddenly feeling strangely depressed at the news of what had happened to a group of people I would have never met even if they'd survived, before I looked uncertainly at the room around me; I thought I could guess what these things were, but I'd already learned some harsh lessons about thinking that I was sure of anything. "How did you… well… get all this?"

"Luck, research, and political blackmail," the old man said with a smile. "President Coin knew that I had no interest in taking on a position of leadership- I'm fully aware of my capabilities as a leader and coordinator of men in the field of battle, but I wouldn't do a good job if I had to deal with politics- but my reputation initially made her predecessors uncertain where I would stand. In the end, we signed an agreement; I would provide District Thirteen with my tactical expertise while publically proclaiming my firm loyalty to the position of President, and in return, I would be allowed to maintain this collection."

"It's that important to you?" I asked, looking at the objects in surprise; I might have trouble understanding the political aspects of the situation in Panem, but I knew enough to appreciate the scale of what he was willing to potentially give up just for what he held now. "What were these objects?"

"The weapons of the Avengers," the old man said, his hand moving from one object to the next as he spoke. "The armour of Iron Man, the most powerful weapon ever devised… the shock gauntlets of Black Widow, one of the greatest secret agents of her time… the bow and arrows of Hawkeye, the greatest archer with the sharpest aim I've ever encountered… the shield of Captain America, the world's first super-soldier, the shield capable of absorbing any impact thrown against it with no harm to the wielder… and the hammer of Thor, the god of thunder, which gives he who holds it the power of the heavens, but only capable of being wielded by one who is worthy."

"Hold on… that's only five people," I said, my inquiring gaze shifting to the man as I took a moment to recall his story. "What happened to the sixth… Avenger?"

"He never used weapons," the old man said with a smile. "He was powerful enough to do significant damage on his own."

He sighed as the smile faded. "And then everything changed, of course…"

"What changed?" I asked.

"That's part of the reason I'm talking to you about this," the old man said, smiling at me once more. "President Coin has a plan, and the revolution is a commendable concept, but there are factors that she doesn't know about because she just wouldn't believe them; in a straight military conflict, the Districts and the Capitol could keep each other on a stalemate for a while, but if they bring in certain secrets…"

He shook his head grimly. "Well, it wouldn't be pretty; let's leave it at that."

"And… you think that telling me about the Avengers will… make me more agreeable to be the Mockingjay or something?" I asked, my initial suspicions suddenly returning. "I can't do that; every time I try to do something, it just goes wrong and people die-"

"Because all you've been doing is trying to take action on impulse; you haven't been making plans," the old man said, looking solemnly at me. "The hard thing about being a symbol is realising that you can't just _inspire_; you need to do something to show that you're worthy of that respect, and be willing to take action yourself."

"What do you know-?" I began.

"I know how you feel about what's happened to you," the man said, looking solemnly at me. "I was a symbol for another conflict, long ago, and even when I was doing everything right, my best friend died because I was too slow to save him; it was hard to cope at first, but I was reminded that he made his choice, and we have to make our choice whether or not we prove ourselves worthy of their faith. People have died because of what you inspired, but you can't hold yourself responsible for that; the only thing responsible are the conditions that forced them to decide that it was better to die on their feet than live on their knees. The only thing _you_ have to decide is whether you want to wallow in your grief and prove them wrong for believing in what you inspired, or stand up for what they died believing in and prove that their sacrifice was worth something."

The old man simply stood and watched me in silence after that statement, leaving me to think on what I had just been told.

I'd never thought about it that way; I'd been so busy thinking about my own grief at what had happened because of me, that I'd never considered things from the other person's point of view.

They'd made their decision to take a stand, and, despite what Snow had said about me being the reason, they would have probably done the same thing even without me; all I did was give them a reason to do it now, rather than later. Anyone who had died on my Tour had made a choice to act because of me, but the reason they'd acted was there already; shouldn't I recognise what had prompted them to make that decision?

"Besides," the man added, still smiling at me, "you're wrong about one thing."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I don't want you to be just my Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen," the man said. "It's a good name, to be sure, but the Mockingjay was a fluke of nature that came to existence when nobody believed it could survive; it creates the idea that you were lucky and nothing else.

"So… what _do _you want me to be?" I asked.

"Simple," the man replied. "I want you to be an Avenger."

I didn't know what it was about that statement, but even though I'd never even heard of the Avengers before a few moments ago, I was suddenly struck by the power of that idea.

Even if he wasn't being honest about what the Avengers had been, the idea that he thought I could be part of a team that had included a _god _among its members…

"But I'm not-" I began, reality catching up to me.

"Not qualified?" the man said, smiling thoughtfully at me. "You're not perfect, I know, but you've got some skill above the general population, you've proven that you're willing to put the lives of others above your own when the situation calls for you to make a choice, and, when faced with impossible odds, you stood up and did what you could to protect another; trust me, you're an Avenger."

The solemn nature of that statement was almost more powerful than his original proclamation that I could be an Avenger; I'd never even thought about some of those things, or about what I could do or stand for beyond my suggestion that Peeta and I would eat the berries to deprive the Capitol of their Victors, and now I was facing a man who saw me as some… saviour?

It was a lot to think about, but as I looked at the man before me, I was struck by a feeling that none of the past requests made for me to act as the Mockingjay had ever managed to inspire in me.

The other residents of District Thirteen had always been talking about how me being the Mockingjay would help the District; this man…

He was making me think about how what I was as the Mockingjay could help everyone else.

"But… why me?" I asked uncertainly. "I'm not the only Tribute-"

"If you're thinking of Finnick Odair, don't," the man said, shaking his head. "Finnick is a good man, but that's all he is; he has strength, skill, and charisma, and he and Johanna Mason certainly have some talents that could be useful if things come down to a fight, but if I'm looking for candidates for the Avengers, you have something that we _need _if we're going to pull this off."

"Which is?" I asked.

"You act to help others when you don't have to," the man said simply. "Finnick does what he does to keep others safe from an immediate threat, and he knows that he'll still be alive in the end whatever else happens… but you step up when you don't _have _to."

I briefly wondered what he meant by that statement about how Finnick 'does what he does', but I quickly decided not to ask about it; I had a feeling I wouldn't get an answer anyway.

"But… wait…" I said, looking uncertainly at him as I thought about everything he'd just told me. "I thought you said that the Avengers failed because they were attacked on their own? How can-?"

"Exactly," the old man said, nodding in approval at me. "You can't stand alone if you're an Avenger… which is why I'm going to need your help with something else."

Reaching over, he tapped a series of buttons on a small control panel on one wall, prompting the door to open up and reveal what seemed to be a large metal object, consisting of a six-sided shape with each side composed of what looked like square metal rods, connected up to all kinds of cables and equipment, and a strange blue light glowing in the centre of the portal from no obvious source that I could see.

"What is it?" I asked, looking at the circle in confusion.

"The other reason I brought you here," the man said, a warm smile on his face as he looked at the object. "I've never dared to show this to anyone before, but I'm breaking that rule here because I know you can use it properly."

"Uh… use it to do what?" I asked.

"Bring the Avengers back," the old man replied firmly, as his expression became grim. "And with the Capitol's secret weapon, I can assure you that we're going to need them…"

* * *

AN 3: So, what did everyone think?

Bonus points to anyone who recognises where that object at the end came from…


	2. Trip to the Past

Disclaimer: _Avengers _and _Hunger Games_ belong to their relevant owners; I merely borrow them to write this story

Feedback: Always a pleasure to receive.

A Man Like No Other

Even when I was about to use the thing that had been introduced to me as a time portal, I couldn't believe that pre-Panem science had actually managed to create something that would allow people to go back into the past

The old man had told that it took a lot of power to operate, so we couldn't evacuate _en masse_ even if we wanted to- morality of abandoning everyone else aside, where would we go that wouldn't be risky?-, but if I understood his plan, he was betting that we wouldn't need to use it for more than a couple of return trips in its current condition.

I'd seen some potentially crazy plans ever since I volunteered to save Prim- that plan was only the first step in an increasingly crazy couple of years- but the idea that I was preparing to go back in time to recruit heroes from the time before Panem…

"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked the old man as he stood at the time portal's control console, tapping away at the various buttons and switches all over it. "I mean, you said you didn't really know how this thing works…"

"Of course it's safe," the old man said, looking up at me with a firm stare that suggested he couldn't believe I was doubting him. "Stark and Doctor Foster both went over the designs more than once, and I have followed their plans exactly; it will work."

"But… all that stuff about different histories…" I said, looking uncertainly at this man who had inspired so much in me that I didn't know was there.

"Just think of it as creating a bridge between our world and another world's past," the old man said, smiling reassuringly at me. "So long as the gauntlet remains undamaged, you'll maintain a link between yourself and the portal, and the portal will retain the set coordinates for us to send them back to their world once they're done here."

"And you're sure-?" I began.

"I'm sure," he said, nodding resolutely at me; he'd told me that there was some deeper reason behind his belief that the Avengers were needed here, but he hadn't shared it yet. "It's easier for everyone if I tell the Avengers everything when they get here; you knowing would only affect things for… reasons I can't explain now."

If it had been anyone else in District Thirteen making that statement, I would have been angry at them; after even Haymitch had kept so much from me as we prepared for the Quarter Quell, to say nothing of the other Tributes…

Despite that, somehow, even when I didn't know this man's name, I _knew _that he hadn't omitted the information about that mysterious Capitol secret because he didn't trust me; if he was able to share it with me, he would have, and he would tell me when I got back.

"OK," I said, looking anxiously at the portal before me, now glowing a brilliant blue, "so… just go in there?"

"And activate your gauntlet when you're ready to come back," the old man said, smiling at me as I studied the red gauntlet on my right hand- taken from one of the nearby armours with an additional device strapped on top-, while my left hand was covered by a black-and-blue glove as it held the bow that had been on the wall; according to the old man, these weapons were my best chance to prove my identity to the Avengers when I got there. "Just stick to the story and focus on the facts; you'll be fine."

With nothing else to do, I simply nodded as I turned my attention to the portal in front of me, took a deep breath, and walked through the swirling blue energy before I could change my mind…

* * *

As the blue light of the portal faded, I found myself standing in an unfamiliar, well-lit corridor, with two people standing on either side of a door a short distance in front of me in a manner that suggested they were guarding it. The man was wearing a sleeveless black top with a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, while the woman was dressed in tight black leather with short, fiery red hair with a pair of pistols strapped to her hips, both weapons drawn and aimed at me as soon as the surrounding glow had faded.

"Easy!" I said, holding up my hands, looking anxiously between the two of them. "I'm not here to hurt anyone-"

"You show up like _that _and think we're going to believe you?" the woman said, looking firmly at me as she aimed her guns at me; I hadn't felt this anxious since the time the Careers had cornered me in a tree, and this time I had the disadvantage that I didn't want to hurt these people-

"What the…?" the man said, lowering his bow as he looked at the one in his hand; now that I looked at his weapon, I was fairly sure that my one was the older version of the one being held by the man before me, but this wasn't the time to start considering the complexities of time travel. Before I could say anything to explain what he had obviously noticed, the door the two had been standing by opened and two older men came out, one wearing a casual T-shirt with a strange logo on it I didn't recognise and a neatly-trimmed beard while the other wore a loose shirt and had a slightly haunted expression.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" the bearded man said as he looked between the two. "I thought you were meant to keep quiet as bodyguards…"

His voice trailed off as he noticed me. "And who's this?"

"My name is Katniss Everdeen," I said, looking resolutely at the four people standing before me, using the opening the bearded man's words gave me. "I'm an Avenger."

"You mean you're applying?" the bearded man said, looking at me in surprise. "Look, kid-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I raised the arm with the gauntlet on it and held it directly in front of his face, allowing myself a slight smile as his eyes widened at the sight. "What the…?"

"Look familiar?" I said, hoping I sounded as confident as I was trying to appear. "You should recognise it; it's from your Mark Four suit."

"And that's not the only thing she's got," the archer said, indicating the bow in his hand and the bow I was holding. "I know my weapon, and I recognise that one; allow for wear and tear due to age, and this is the same bow."

"What the_ hell_?" the bearded man said, looking between the dual bows and the gauntlet in confusion before he focused on me. "But… but you _couldn't _have that gauntlet-"

"Not if I got it from here, anyway," I said, flexing the fingers of the gauntlet as I smiled at him. "But it's easy to get your hands on this kind of thing when you're from the future and you know where to look."

I gave them a moment to process that statement, smiling slightly at the varying degrees of shock on their face; I might be completely out of my depth here, but at least they all seemed to be equally shocked as well.

"The future?" the man in the purple shirt finally said, looking at me with new curiosity. "You're… from the future?"

"Around… two centuries from now, I think," I said, hoping that the old man had been right; he'd claimed that some details had been lost in the aftermath of the war, so there might be some years he was missing, but he felt that two centuries was a reasonable estimate.

"Huh," the bearded man said, raising an eyebrow in surprise as he looked at me. "That's… different."

"If you're from the future, why do you need us?" the archer said, looking grimly at me. "You've got Stark's armour-"

"And we had to search for ages just to find that," I interjected, looking solemnly at the group of people standing around me.

This was the part that I was most apprehensive about; these people had dedicated their lives to saving the world, and now I was here to tell them that what they had done, or were about to do, didn't matter…

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it," I said at last. "I'm not clear on how or when it happened, but between this time and the time I came from, there was a massive nuclear war that pretty much devastated the planet. We're down to a relative fraction of what we were, we have no idea what things are like across the sea, and we're ruled by a dictatorship whose only goal is keeping the outlying districts suppressed out of fear while forcing teenagers to compete against each other in fights to the death each year for nothing more than their own sick amusement."

"Fights to the death?" the woman repeated, looking at me with a new intensity in her stare. "What do you mean by that?"

"Most of the specifics have been suppressed over the years, but it's part of this 'Treaty of the Treason', signed to end a war that took place over seventy-five years ago from my perspective," I explained. "After some kind of devastating war- I don't know what started it, so don't ask- the current government of Panem came together from the remaining survivors, with Panem as the Capitol and thirteen various districts being created to support the Capitol, each one with its own speciality; my District mines coal, District Five provides power, District Four supplied fish, things like that…"

"And that was the war you mentioned?" the woman asked.

"No, the war I mentioned took place between the Districts and the Capitol," I explained. "The Districts tried to rebel against the Capitol, but District Thirteen was presumed destroyed after it ended, and as for the rest of us…"

I paused for a moment, making sure everyone was looking at me, before I continued; now that I was actually talking about the Hunger Games to someone who didn't know about them already, it was becoming increasingly clear that they had to end. "Well, as part of the treaty, to ensure that we pay penance for the rebellion, all twelve districts have to submit two tributes, between twelve and eighteen years old, to receive extensive training for two weeks before we're pitted against each other in fights to the death."

"Oh my God…" the man in the purple shirt said, looking at me in horror. The woman had a certain tension about her that reminded me of the monkeys that had attacked me during the Quarter Quell, preparing to strike but uncertain what target to go for, while the bearded man just looked like he was fighting the urge to be sick.

"They send _twelve-year-olds _ to kill people?" the archer said, looking incredulously at me.

"The best young Tributes rely on their size to evade the better-trained ones, but that only gets you so far," I said, bowing my head at the memory. "I teamed up with a younger Tribute last year, but… she was impaled by a spear before I could do anything."

"You fought in these… 'Games'?" the man in the purple shirt said, an edge of contempt to his voice at the thought.

"I did," I said, nodding at him. "I was able to get through it without killing anyone I was allied with, but… well, my actions set off a rebellion, and one of our leaders sent me here to recruit your help."

"Us?" the bearded man said, looking at me in surprise.

"Well, he said he was sending me to get Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton; those are your names, right?" I said, looking between the four; now that I'd actually voiced the names, I found myself naming the four people facing me in my mind, relieved that I'd apparently processed the descriptions correctly even if I hadn't confirmed them before now.

"Just us?" the man in the purple shirt that I guessed was Bruce Banner said, nodding at me in uncertain confirmation. "Uh… you do know that we aren't all the Avengers, right?"

"The guy who sent me here was specific; it has to be you four," I said firmly. "He said you'd understand when you got there."

"Huh," Natasha Romanov said, looking me over for a moment before she spoke. "And why did he- and who is he, anyway?- send you?"

"I've… well, for my actions in the Games, I've basically become a symbol for the rebellion," I explained. "I already said that I didn't kill anyone I was allied with, but I actually went against the rules to the point that I was prepared to kill myself and my remaining ally to ensure that these Games didn't have a Victor; they were forced to let us both live, but the idea that anyone could defy the Capitol like that… well…"

"Set the ball rolling, huh?" Clint Barton said, smiling at me in approval.

"Pretty much," I said with a shrug. "As for who sent me… he said he'd tell me his name later; he gave me these weapons from his collection so that you'd believe me."

"OK," the bearded man that I was fairly sure was Tony Stark said, looking uncertainly at me. "So… you came back in time, on the recommendation of a guy whose name you don't know, armed with weapons designed by a group that apparently doesn't exist in your world any more… for what? To get us to stop the war before it starts?"

"If you can," I said, nodding briefly at him- even if it wouldn't change anything for us, based on what the old man had told me about how the portal worked, it would be nice to know that at least one world would never have to endure the Hunger Games- before I turned to ensure that I was addressing all of them. "But what I'm really here for is to ask you all to come back to the future with me."

"What?" Clint said, looking at me in confusion.

"District Thirteen and other rebels are preparing to mount an official rebellion against the Capitol- I'm to serve as their public face when things start getting serious- but… the man who sent me here has told me that the Capitol have a secret weapon that he doesn't think we can confront with what we have," I explained, as I looked around at the four assembled Avengers. "He showed me the portal to take me here along with an archive he has about you all, told me about your history, and sent me back here so that I could specifically ask you four to come back with me."

"Just us?" Tony said, looking at me uncertainly. "Look, Kat-girl-"

"Katniss," I corrected him.

"Katniss," he said, nodding at me before he continued, "I don't know if your records just jumped ahead a bit or something, but I kind of need my armour to do anything… Avenger-esque… and I don't have it on me now-"

"We have your original seven armours in storage and plans for some of your later models; the man who sent me here assures me that you'll have everything you need to get the old ones back up and running or to create new models," I said, smiling slightly at him before I looked more solemnly at them. "I get that you don't have any reason to believe anything I'm telling you right now, but please believe me on this; there are at least thousands of people living as nothing more than slaves to a government that sees us all as nothing more than toys to fight for their amusement when they acknowledge anyone individually, and if you can't help us, we're in serious trouble."

"And… you're sure the guy who sent you here just wanted us?" Bruce asked.

"He was very clear on that," I confirmed. "You four are exactly what we need."

After a moment's contemplative silence as the four Avengers looked at each other, Tony sighed and shrugged.

"Well, I've always said I'm all about looking forward," he said, smiling slightly as he looked at the rest of the group. "Why not actually see where we're going?"

"It doesn't exactly sound pleasant-" Clint began.

"Which is why you two should come along," Tony said, looking at Clint and Natasha with a smile. "Fury sent you here to keep an eye on me and Bruce while we're working on that salvaged Chitauri tech, remember? If we go to the future, be kind of hard for you to keep an eye on us if you aren't there as well."

"We're in," Natasha said firmly, Clint simply nodding in agreement after looking at her to confirm his own agreement.

"Well," Bruce said, looking at the other three with a slight smile, "I'm certainly not going to be the guy who said he turned down the chance to save the future; count me in too."

"Thanks," I said, smiling at the group of people in relief.

Whatever else was about to happen, at least this part of the plan had gone according to plan…

"So… what now?" Tony asked. "You click your heels and go 'There's no place like home'?"

"Actually," I said, holding up the gauntlet with a smile, "from what I was told, I just need you all to be touching me while I do this…"

After a moment's glance between each other, the Avengers gathered around to place their hands on me, I pressed down on the relevant control on the gauntlet…

* * *

After the light faded, the five of us were now staggering out of the portal, looking anxiously at each other before they turned to look at the portal we'd just walked through.

"That's it?" Clint said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Your time machine is a big gate?"

"Actually, considering it's a two-way system without a receiver at the other end, that's actually pretty good," Tony pointed out.

"Talking of which, how does that work?" Bruce asked, looking curiously at the portal.

"Variation on the Bifrost designed by Tony and Doctor Foster with some insight from Thor," the old man said, still standing where he'd been when I left the room (Which fit with what he'd told me about the portal; when used for this kind of trip, I'd automatically return to my original departure time when I got back no matter how long I spent in the past). "It's complicated, but I can make it work; that's the main thing right now."

"Yeah, if you…" Tony began, only for his words to trail off as he turned to look at the old man, the other Avengers' eyes widening in shock as they took in the sight of the old man standing before them, a warm smile on his face and a faint gleam of tears in his eyes as he looked at the four Avengers.

"Hello, my friends," he said, joy obvious in his voice despite his solemn tone. "It's… it's _so _good to see you…"

"Oh my God…" Clint said, looking at the old man incredulously.

"Capsicle?" Tony said, squinting at the man before him in confusion, as though trying to confirm what he was looking at.

"_Steve_?" Bruce and Natasha said simultaneously.

"What-?" I began, looking at the old man in confusion.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly, Katniss," the old man said, smiling at me as though the other Avengers' shocked reactions hadn't happened. "My name is Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America; back when they first came together, I was essentially the field commander of the Avengers."

* * *

AN: Well, that's the question of the old man's identity answered; who honestly guessed it was him but didn't say it earlier?

To answer questions, the time portal used here came from 'Spider-Man: Edge of Time'; I just removed the need for the portal to be a two-way system via Katniss's use of the gauntlet as a return system.


	3. The Fall of the Avengers

Disclaimer: _Avengers _and _Hunger Games_ belong to their relevant owners; I merely borrow them to write this story

Feedback: Always a pleasure to receive.

AN: A friend suggested the new title, and I thought it worked; hope you all like it

AN 2: A recent review prompted me to specify the timing of this story; from the Avengers' perspective, this takes place relatively shortly after the Chitauri invasion, before _Iron Man 3_, so Thor's still in Asgard and Tony hasn't developed the Iron Legion or his remote-controlled armour yet

A Man Like No Other

"Hold on; _you _were an _Avenger_?" I said, looking at the old man incredulously. "But- but you said-!"

"That they'd been active before the war that shattered the world and created Panem from the ashes," the old man- Steve?- said, smiling at me. "And that was true, Katniss; I just didn't tell you that I was there when it happened."

"But that was-!" I began again, scrambling to understand this new impossibility.

"Over two centuries ago?" Steve finished for me with the same small smile that suggested he was amused and saddened at what we were talking about. "And that was one reason I didn't mention it; the Avengers are a good story, but if you thought I was claiming to know them personally, without any evidence to support that claim, you'd assume I was just barking mad."

"But… but _how_?" Tony said, looking at the old man in confusion (At least I knew that even the people who'd known he was an Avenger were as surprised at this turn of events as I was). "I mean, I know that super-soldier-serum stuff did… some weird stuff to your body that nobody could've totally predicted, but you couldn't be alive after _this _long on your own!"

"I'm not," Steve said.

"You're not alive?" Clint said, looking at the old man uncertainly.

"Not this old on my own," Steve clarified smiling slightly at his teammates (He'd _known _these people when he was _young_?) "The serum did retard my ability to age, but I also spent some further years in suspended animation between your time and now, and I've had a few artificial limbs provided by Stark here after a bad fight; I'm not exactly the _Six Million Dollar Man_, but I've received enough upgrades over the years to ensure I stay in fairly good shape."

"You're making pop culture references _now_?" Tony said, looking incredulously at him.

"When you put me in suspended animation, you included a VR network that gave me access to virtually every TV show and movie you could think of," Steve explained, his expression becoming more solemn as he looked at the billionaire. "My body was out of it, but my mind was kept occupied until you took me out of the chamber; it was the best you could do, considering that it took you a while to get the parts together to replace what had been lost."

"_I _took a while to get _parts _together?" Tony repeated, clearly wondering if the old man had gone senile. "That doesn't-"

"You went through a… darker phase of your life that culminated in you losing most of your original resources," Steve said, looking solemnly at Tony. "You lost… a great deal when another weapons manufacturer unleashed a dangerous new means of enhancing soldiers, both in terms of your financial resources and you as a person; even with everything you had, the best that anyone could get from you after what happened was that you were still physically alive."

"What…" Tony began, before he shook his head. "No, on second thought, I probably don't want to know."

"Be prepared when you get back home; that's the best I can give you right now," Steve said, nodding at the other man in an understanding manner.

"What happened to Thor?" Clint asked, before I could try and press the two men for information myself.

"Huh?" Steve said, looking at the archer in surprise.

"Well, if we're as far in the future as Katniss said we were, I'm guessing that the rest of us just died of old age- whatever happened to you, the rest of us are still basically human- but that wouldn't be an issue for Thor," Clint explained, indicating the hammer. "He's said more than once that he's virtually immortal, given how long his people can live, so he couldn't have died of natural causes given his age; what happened to him if he isn't here?"

"Thor… well, it probably started after Doctor Foster passed away," Steve said, looking sadly around the room at the other four.

"Doctor Foster?" I asked.

"Doctor Jane Foster," Steve explained, looking over at me with a smile. "She was an astrophysicist- she studied the stars and various related phenomena- who helped Thor when he first came to Earth without his powers, helping him understand more about the human values that he'd never really considered when he was home."

"Oh," I said, making a note to ask about that story when I had a moment; I didn't know many stories, but something about the idea of an immortal falling for a normal human sounded strangely moving…

"It's the way of the world, I guess," Steve said with a sigh. "You can try and prepare yourself for the fact that you'll outlive the woman you love, willingly sacrificing what you were because how you feel about her outweighs everything else, tell yourself that what time you'll have with her now will make up for the fact that it will be so brief in the long run…"

"But that doesn't make it easier when it happens?" I finished, suddenly remembering my mother's reaction to my father's death.

I'd always thought her weak for falling apart after the accident that killed my father, but when Steve spoke of his old friend, who'd entered a relationship _knowing _that he would outlive her, I found myself thinking more about what else she'd lost when he was gone…

"It doesn't," Steve said grimly, confirming my thoughts. "Thor might have managed to learn how to cope with her death eventually- he certainly had the opportunity- but when our last battle took place… he lost his faith."

"His faith?" Clint repeated; evidently he shared my confusion at what faith had to do with this discussion.

"His faith that we were worth protecting," Steve clarified, looking sadly at the hammer that I was starting to recognise was the last relic of the missing Avenger left on Earth. "With Jane's death, he began to doubt the value of protecting a race that could change so much in such a comparatively little time by his standards, and when our last adversary as a team revealed himself, Thor's doubt in the value of his old oath to protect us cost him the ability to wield Mjolnir… and our opponent pretty much beat him to a bloody pulp."

"Something did that to _Thor_?" Natasha said in surprise (I wondered how powerful this guy would have to be to inspire such a strong reaction in a woman who'd seemed so in control earlier, but decided not to think about it; he wasn't here, so it didn't matter). "Even without his hammer, he's not exactly easy to put down-"

"We were fighting a _very _powerful adversary," Steve noted, indicating his artificial limbs. "The guy had already done this to me, along with various internal injuries I've never had the nerve to ask for specific descriptions of, and Thor's rage and anger at it… well, like I said, he lost his grip on the hammer, and then he got the beating of a lifetime because he couldn't summon it back to him. The Bifrost took him to safety before he died of his injuries- at least, he was still moving when it came for him- but he never came back; I don't know if he's dead, just can't be bothered, or what."

"And he just… left his hammer?" Tony said, indicating the weapon in question. "He was _ridiculously _attached to that thing-"

"It was too far away from him when the Bifrost activated for him to take it with him, and like we all know, it can only be lifted by the worthy," Steve said, looking grimly at the hammer. "It took a lot of effort to get it here, and I'm reluctant to rely on it in a fight unless I have to; even if it can be used, how much of its powers depends on it being wielded by an Asgardian, whether or not we manage to find a worthy human?"

"Point," Clint said, looking solemnly at the weapon himself. "No point packing that kind of firepower if you can't use it properly."

"So," Bruce said, after a moment of awkward silence as the Avengers exchanged glances, clearly feeling uncomfortable about their uncertainty about what had happened to their missing teammate, "Katniss here gave us some details of what happened here since our time, but what else can you tell us?"

"She told you about the war that devastated the planet, right?" Steve began, looking around at his teammates.

"Pretty much the first thing she mentioned after introducing herself as an Avenger," Tony replied.

"Picture the worst-case-scenarios people came up with for nuclear war and then make it both better and worse than they thought," Steve said grimly. "From what Tony told me, it happened shortly after our last stand; he wasn't clear on if it was instigated by our enemy or just natural tensions boiling over into a climatic assault, but the end result was the same. I took over checking out old communications systems for Tony after he died, but I still haven't managed to make contact with anyone outside America since I woke up; I've managed to tap into a few of the satellites still up there after the war, but I haven't managed to reach anything anywhere, but whether they're just unable to reply or there's simply nobody there to receive it I don't know."

"How long have you been… here?" Natasha asked, curiously indicating the room we were in.

"Since shortly after the last rebellion," Steve replied. "I was placed in suspended animation shortly before the original war started, but Tony was able to keep himself alive through various life-support devices he designed, staying underground while he stole supplies from various places until he could save me; he said that he wanted to ensure there was still an Avenger in this world."

"What did I-?" Tony began.

"Trust me," Steve said, looking firmly at the inventor, "you _don't _want to know."

After Tony had nodded at him in grim acceptance, Steve continued talking. "Anyway, Tony died shortly after I woke up, and I spent the next few years wandering around, trying to see what had become of the world, until I heard news of the rebellion against the Capitol. I missed most of the fighting- the actual war was fairly brief and I'd been staying away from populated areas-, but I eventually found District Thirteen when I was investigating rumours of their survival in an anti-radiation suit Tony had created and ran into a scouting patrol. Once we'd established that neither of us were working for the Capitol, I was able to request a meeting with their current President and work out a deal."

"Deal?" Bruce repeated in surprise. "You never struck me as the kind of guy to go in for deals…"

"This was the kind of deal I had to make," Steve said. "District Thirteen had access to some records of our activities- the explanation for that will be provided later- so they knew who I was, and Tony had kept most of our weapons in secure storage along with me. Once I had drawn up the terms of the deal with the president, I was able to arrange for this room to be set aside as a private museum of our achievements, in exchange for my services coordinating our defences and the promise that I wouldn't seek control for myself."

"But… you wouldn't do that anyway…" Bruce said.

"True, but the Presidents feel better to have it in writing," Steve explained. "Anyway, that's not relevant now; what is relevant is confirming that Katniss told you about the Hunger Games, right?"

"As punishment for that rebellion you told us about, the remaining twelve districts have to send two teenagers each into a massive fight to the death which only one of them can win, right?" Bruce said, looking at Steve for confirmation.

"Exactly," Steve said, nodding at him. "The arena varies from year to year, but some key details remain the same; they start out with a Cornucopia where the Tributes can recover various weapons and supplies, with most of the games being won when the Careers take control of the Cornucopia."

"The Careers?" Natasha asked.

"It's a nickname for Tributes from Districts One, Two and Four," I said, picking up the explanation. "In most Districts, the Tributes are just selected at random from any children in the right age group, but those three Districts have academics specifically set up to train their children in all the skills they'd need to win their Games."

"They train _kids _to become _killers_?" Tony said, looking at me incredulously.

"It happens," Natasha said, in a grim tone that made me wonder if she had some kind of experience with something like that even back in her own time (I already knew that I wouldn't ask her about that; if we were mounting a rebellion, I wanted to believe that what came before was worth fighting to regain).

"The point," Steve said, as he looked around the other Avengers, "is that the average Games consists of the Careers gaining control of the supplies in the Cornucopia, killing most of the less experienced Tributes in the initial bloodbath as people try to recover supplies, and then the other Tributes end up getting killed as the Careers hunt them down and take them out of the picture…"

"Oh," Bruce said, looking at him grimly. "That's…"

"Sick?" I finished for him, for once able to recall the Games without horror; if the Avengers were going to help us, they had to know what they were up against. "Trust me, it's worse when you're there; I saw a girl just a couple of years older than me gut a boy a couple of years younger than me when he was doing nothing but sobbing for his life, and the only friend I made in the arena was a twelve-year-old girl who was killed by a spear while she was running to hug me…"

I had to stop at that, turning away to lean against the wall, my shoulders shaking as I tried to force the memories back now that they weren't needed…

"Easy," a voice said from behind me; I didn't need to feel the small hand settling on my shoulder to identify it as Natasha. "You're safe now, Katniss; nothing can hurt you here."

In the past, I wouldn't have believed anyone who said those words- even before District Twelve had been bombed, the Capitol had such control that I knew nobody was really _safe_- but now, for the first time, as I stood in a room with five heroes…

I felt like I was finally somewhere that _could _be safe…

"So… since you said you're from District Twelve, I take it not all the Games go the Careers' way?" Tony said, looking curiously at me as I brought myself back under control.

"It varies," Steve said, answering for me as he looked between his old teammates, giving me a chance to collect myself. "Some non-Careers can pull off some effective strategies; one of our primary assets here is a former Victor who won his games by electrocuting the other Tributes, some other Victors won their Games by camouflaging themselves until everyone else was dead or too wounded to stop them, and another feigned weakness until there were a few Tributes left and then went on a killing frenzy."

"Ah," Tony said, looking over at me. "How'd you pull it off?"

"I blew up the supplies by setting off a minefield the Careers had set up to stop any of the other Tributes reaching them, and then I managed to take out the Careers when they tried to attack me directly," I explained (This wasn't the time to talk about Peeta; that would come later).

"She's good with a bow," Steve said, smiling over at me before his gaze shifted to Clint. "That's one reason I wanted you here, Clint; Katniss has only had limited training in other areas of combat, so I was hoping that you could help her adapt to other methods of fighting."

"No problem," Clint said, looking at me with a smile.

"Two archers?" Tony said, looking at Steve in surprise. "I thought you'd look for some variety…"

"Katniss might have skills we already possess, but she also has the heart we need if we're going to pull this off," Steve said, looking back at Tony before he looked at me with a slight smile. "She actually volunteered for the Games to save her twelve-year-old sister from having to compete herself, and when it came down to her and her District partner at the end of her Games, she defied the Capitol by suggesting they kill themselves instead as the only thing she could do to defy them."

"You were going to kill _yourself_?" Bruce said, looking at me in surprise.

"I just… I didn't want to kill Peeta…" I said, looking awkwardly at the ground.

"The point," Steve said, looking around at the other Avengers, "is that Katniss isn't just here because she's good with a bow; she's here because, in a world that lies down and accepts the atrocities of the Games because there wasn't anything else to do, she not only stood up to the system to save her sister, but won the Games on _her _terms."

If anyone else had started talking about me like that, I would have protested that I hadn't done anything special, but the fact that it was Steve making this statement left me silent.

I didn't know what it was about this man, but he just had a… a _presence_, was the best term I could think of… that made me want him to think well of me…

"So, she's here because she has the spirit; why do you need the rest of us?" Tony asked, looking at Steve with a hopeful smile. "I mean, if we're just talking a straightforward war here-"

"We're not," Steve replied, raising his metal arm and tapping some controls on the forearm, one section of the wall sliding down to reveal a screen. "As well as their military resources, the Capitol can also call on _this_."

As he spoke, an image appeared on the screen that I couldn't believe. It was a large green man, with muscles that made even Cato's well-trained physique or Peeta's own strength seem pathetic by comparison, dressed in a sleeveless blue shirt and purple trousers, with gold bands around his wrists and a thick white beard around his face. I briefly wondered why Steve was so concerned about a well-trained Capitolite- it wasn't like I hadn't seen green skin before, even if Octavia had never taken it this far- but then I saw the man walk by a door and re-evaluated my opinion; this figure was at least twice the size of any man I'd ever seen.

"Oh God…" Bruce said, staring at the screen in horror.

"What the Hell is _that_?" Tony said.

"The Capitol's secret weapon," Steve said grimly, as the footage ended. "This is the only surviving clip of him in that form that I've been able to find- he's erased virtually all other traces of his existence by the time I found District Thirteen- but he's still active in his human form."

"Human form?" I repeated.

"What you're seeing is the result of a human being infused with gamma radiation while possessing a unique genetic sequence," Bruce explained as he looked at me, indicating the screen where Steve had frozen the clip on an image of the green man. "Normally radiation on this scale would kill anyone exposed to it, but we've since learned that a few people, including me, have the ability to absorb that radiation, at the cost of it triggering a transformation into… well, that."

"Wait; you're saying… _you_ can turn into something like that?" I said, indicating the screen as I looked at Bruce in surprise; the science was beyond me, but I thought I understood enough to know what Bruce was telling me.

The idea that this small man could become something so _large_…

"Oh, he can," Tony confirmed with a smile. "His control over it varies depending on when he transformed and why- he's harder to control if he's _really _angry when it happens, but he'll focus on the intended bad guy if he chooses to change himself- but that's what he brings to the team; brilliant scientific mind off the field and raw rage-fuelled strength on the field."

"And that's why I brought you all here," Steve explained. "If anyone's going to coordinate a plan to take out the Maestro, it's you."

"Maestro?" Natasha said, looking thoughtfully at the screen. "He calls himself that?"

"It fits," Steve said grimly. "The Maestro is a genius in human form, and he retains his personality and intellect in his transformed state; he's maybe quicker to anger in that form, but it's been a while since I had a reason to test it."

"Huh," Tony said, studying the screen thoughtfully. "A Hulk that thinks… that could be tricky…"

"And you're sure he's still… capable of it?" Bruce asked, looking anxiously at Steve.

"He wouldn't give up that power," Steve replied grimly.

"Who is he?" Natasha asked. "What is his role in Panem?"

"It all starts before the war," Steve explained solemnly, looking grimly at the now-blank screen as though it was displaying recordings of what he was discussing. "He established his new identity shortly before the bombs fell, and then it became a non-issue as radiation had no effect on him. When it all went down and the wars began, the radiation pumped him up beyond any strength level I've ever seen; estimates suggest that the Maestro could only be killed if he was at ground zero of a nuclear blast, and even then it would be a bit of a question-mark. He was strong enough and smart enough to work out a means of draining off the worst of the nuclear radiation- some of it was channelled into himself, but he disposed of the rest in more remote parts of the globe according to some reports- and constructed the Districts and the Capitol. He's erected various anti-radiation shields around Panem based on both his own expertise and technology salvaged from Stark Industries to drain off any residual radiation, and the world's mostly regenerated itself in the immediate area, but he remains the final authority, taking everything he wants and eliminating anything that doesn't serve a purpose. Theoretically, he could even survive without Panem if he wanted to, but it… amuses him to have humanity serve him, after he spent so long hiding from it…"

"Hiding?" I said, looking at Steve in surprise. "Why would someone that powerful want to hide?"

"After the war began, it was because he wanted to ensure that his true nature was secret to avoid giving humanity something to unite against, but he hid away before the war because he wasn't always the monster he is now," Steve said, his expression now sad as he looked at me, the current memory clearly painful. "There was once a time when the man who was the Maestro sought to control what he could become, maybe even cure himself of it, while always willing to risk himself and help others when there was something he could do to help them… until years of war, loss and hardship drove him to the breaking point, when he turned against everything he'd tried to be and destroyed those who'd once been his family."

Something in Steve's tone told me that what we were hearing was only the basic essentials of the Maestro's story, but it was the fear and apprehension on their faces that really warned me that what I was about to hear would be bad; I had the sudden feeling that the other four people present already knew what he was going to say and were hoping that he was wrong…

"What are you saying, Captain?" Clint said, looking anxiously at his old leader, speaking for all of us.

"I'm saying that you were wrong when you said that the rest of you have died of old age by now," Steve said, looking grimly at Clint before he addressed all five of us (I was surprised at how I was counting myself among the other Avengers, but this wasn't time to analyse that). "Someone else made it to this era."

Turning back to the screen, he tapped another control and pulled up a video image of President Snow making a speech, staring solemnly at the image before he spoke. "This is President Coralinus Snow, leader of the Capitol and 'glorious leader' of Panem, the human form of the Maestro…"

He paused for a moment, pain on his face as he stared at the image, before he sighed and looked at us all once again. "Originally known as Doctor Bruce Banner, AKA the Incredible Hulk."

* * *

AN 3: Be honest; who was expecting that?

AN 4: If anyone doubts the idea that Tony could have survived for over a century through artificial implants, it has precedent n the comics; one storyline saw Iron Man and Doctor Doom visit a possible future a century from their present where Doom's future self had survived by various artificial implants and replacements (Doom rejected his future self as having sacrificed his dignity and paid an unreasonable price in his pursuit of power, but the point still stands that if Doom could do it, Tony probably could as well).


	4. Rules of Temporal Mechanics

Disclaimer: _Avengers _and _Hunger Games_ belong to their relevant owners; I merely borrow them to write this story

Feedback: Always a pleasure to receive.

AN: Still a filler chapter here, but we're approaching the main action moments, I assure you…

A Man Like No Other

I barely had to think about what I was doing; as soon as I heard Steve's statement, I had grabbed an arrow from Clint's quiver and was and aiming it at Bruce, resolved to end Snow _now_-

"NO!" another voice yelled, as I suddenly found myself grappling with Natasha as she hauled my bow above my head, yanking the arrow away and tossing it to one side.

"And that's why I didn't tell you about Bruce earlier," Steve said, his attention having returned to me as Natasha forced my arms down. "I knew you'd do that."

"Why _shouldn't _I?" I yelled over at Steve, unable to believe he'd had access to a time machine and hadn't thought about doing this himself. "If I kill him-!"

"Assuming that you succeed, you'll deprive us of a major asset and accomplish nothing in the grand scheme," Steve said.

"I'll kill Snow-!" I began.

"Except you won't," Steve said. "Bruce _isn't _Snow any more."

"I'm not?" Bruce said, looking uncertainly at Steve. "I take you mean… beyond the obvious detail that he's not calling himself that any more…?"

"I don't pretend to understand the temporal physics behind it, but this time machine doesn't exactly allow you to _change_ the past," Steve explained, as he looked solemnly between his friends. "The way Tony- the Tony who saved my life- explained it to me when he told me how the portal works, by going back in time and bringing you here, Katniss has created a divergent timeline, with your timeline splitting from ours-"

"What?" I interjected, looking at Steve in confusion; I'd only been paying partial attention when he told this to me when I was going to use the machine originally, and then I was mainly focusing on the parts that confirmed I'd be able to come home. "We really… we _split time_?"

"The way Tony explained it to me was to think of time as a… railway track," Steve said, turning to look at me with an understanding smile. "Basically, before I sent you back, the Avengers were on the same course as they were in our past, but your arrival served as the equivalent of diverting them onto another track, setting them off on your own route while leaving us on our original journey. From this point onwards, the only connection between our times is the link being maintained by the portal; what happens to them is their own affair."

"So… Bruce _won't _turn into that?" Clint asked, indicating the monitor that still depicted Snow's face.

"He'll probably end up looking like that at some point, but…" Steve began, before he trailed off as he looked uncertainly at Bruce before finishing his sentence. "Well, I'm optimistic that he won't."

"You're _optimistic_?" Bruce repeated.

"I won't lie to you, Bruce; if you experience even half of the things that my Bruce experienced on the path that turned him into Snow and the Maestro, I almost wouldn't blame you for breaking down in the end," Steve explained, looking sympathetically at the other man before his gaze hardened. "But I also have faith that, if you know what you could become and what you'd do to everyone else if you go down that road, you will do _everything _you can to stop yourself becoming that person."

"Whoa…" Bruce said, looking at the now-frozen image of Snow on the screen before he looked back at Steve. "Well… thanks for that."

The slight smile Steve gave the other man was barely noticeable, but I somehow knew that it would mean the world to the clearly-shaken scientist that was apparently no longer destined to become President Snow.

I didn't know what was harder to believe; the fact that Snow had ever been anything but a monster, or the idea that we were using the young Snow against the old one…

"OK," Tony said, looking at Bruce for a moment before turning back to the portal, "with all of us vowing that we will _never _let Bruce turn into a demented psychopath, can we get back to the fact that I _made _a time machine?"

"You and Doctor Foster, anyway," Steve replied.

"Doctor Foster?" I repeated, wanting to make sure I remembered this part of the story correctly. "That's the… astrophysicist… that Thor was in love with?"

"Precisely," Steve said. "It was an idea that the two of them came up with based on the Bifrost Bridge that Thor uses to travel between Earth and Asgard; Doctor Foster came up with the equations to determine how it would work, and Tony created the actual machinery. The idea was based on the theory that wormholes can have openings in different times as well as different parts of space, but we soon learned that the act of going back in time through this bridge in such a manner created divergent timelines that didn't have any impact on how history unfolded in our own timeline."

"So… time travel doesn't change history, but it does change the future?" Natasha asked. "Does that mean-?"

"So long as we don't change the settings on the portal in any way, it's still linked to your original time period and universe," Steve said, looking reassuringly at the assassin before she could finish the question. "Once we're finished here, you'll be able to return to your time of origin and continue with your lives, remembering what you encountered here and left with every chance that you won't go through what I've had to deal with."

The other woman said nothing, but the slight nod she sent in Steve's direction seemed to be enough of a response for him right now.

"How did you get this thing set up here?" Clint asked, indicating the portal. "From what Katniss told us, this place has been off-the-grid for the better part of a century; would they really spare power for a time machine and keep it here?"

"I told them it was another keepsake; so long as I'm careful with the power I provide it, they don't really notice," Steve explained with a smile. "It mostly runs on one of Tony's arc reactors, anyway; it eats up a lot of power, but it's primarily self-contained."

"Didn't trust 'em with time-travel, huh?" Tony asked.

"I was waiting until a new Avenger emerged who I could trust with it," Steve replied, looking at me with a warm smile that suddenly reminded me of my father.

"Which brings me back to another point," Tony said, looking grimly at Steve as his former leader turned his attention back to the genius inventor. "So, if… the man formerly known as Bruce… set up these districts… is that why you were able to get this kind of set-up? You know, you know the main bad guy, so these guys defer to you to make sure you stay on their side…"

"Like I said, a few people here knew about the Maestro when I came here, so I was able to convince them that I could offer some useful insight into what he was capable of," Steven explained. "Admittedly, the District's knowledge of why I was particularly useful died out as time passed and the Maestro remained hidden while Snow became a more prominent person, but the rules of my continued presence here were established and nobody had the clout to try and break them when I was being such an asset to the district."

"So… how did he do it?" Bruce asked. "I mean, I've never been much of a guy for politics, so how did… Snow… get to where he is?"

"As far as I can tell, it started with him building the necessary technology to deal with the radioactive fallout left after the wars and went on from there," Steve explained. "Snow operated behind the scenes for most of the early years of Panem in its current state; from what I've gathered from Tony's research and my own observations, he fakes his own death when he feels like he's done enough and goes back into hiding, re-emerging into the public eye when he's ready, and using his 'ancestor's' reputation as a means of getting in with the right people until he has the connections he needs to establish his power officially."

"So… he trades on his own past accomplishments to earn respect?" I asked.

"Is the whole 'President' thing an accurate title?" Natasha asked.

"In the sense that he was democratically elected?" Steve said, shaking his head in confirmation. "No, he rose to power through various manipulations of other people, and when he'd achieved what he wanted and risen to his current position, he poisoned most of his allies at an elaborate dinner after taking sufficient amounts of antidote to ensure that he'd survive when he had to drink it himself."

The stunned silence that settled over the Avengers gave me a moment to process that news myself; I'd known that Snow was twisted, but to just poison the people who'd _helped _him…

"Hold on; he _poisoned _people?" Bruce said, looking at Steve in shocked confusion. "I'm not-"

"Your radiation expertise transferred rather well into an interest in poisons, particularly since your physiology renders you immune to most attempts to drug you," Steven explained. "Theoretically, the Maestro would allow him to survive being poisoned, but Snow also gave himself various antidotes so that he wouldn't have to transform to recover; he might have mastered control of his other side-"

"Control?" I interjected. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when Tony said that I was hard to control when I change while I'm angry?" Bruce explained, looking over at me to see my nod before he continued. "That was being generous; I have virtually no control over the Hulk most of the time, with the other guy just being a raging monster who rarely even speaks, and what control I've gained over the years is limited to ensuring that he'll only go after people _I _know are enemies, rather than anything more sophisticated."

"He's right," Natasha said, looking over at me. "The first time the rest of us saw the Hulk in action, Bruce transformed in a panic after the room he was in exploded when our enemies attacked us; the Hulk nearly tore me apart and rampaged through the base before he was intercepted by Thor and provoked into jumping onto an attacking plane."

"Worked out a lot better the second time he showed up, though," Tony said, smiling over at Bruce as he spoke. "When the guy _chose _to change when we were up against an enemy army, he smashed his way through the bad guys' forces, took orders from Steve, fought alongside Thor, and saved my life into the bargain; he just couldn't really talk at the time."

"Oh," I said, stuck for anything else to say to that before I looked over at Steve. "And… you're saying that Snow doesn't have that issue when he changes?"

"From what I saw of the records covering the last time the Maestro was active, he's fully aware of what he does in both forms and has full control over his actions," Steve said. "He might not be completely sane any more, but he _is_ in control."

"Can I just confirm something here?" Clint asked, looking uncertainly at Steve. "Bruce- Snow- whatever- has been active since the beginning of Panem… from what you've told us he practically created the nation… and people _really _don't notice that he's been alive all that time?"

"As I said, they tend to think of it as a distant relative thing rather than actually assume he's the same person; he changes his hairstyle slightly to increase the dissimilarity between his identities, and I've wondered if he doesn't allow himself to transform slightly so that his face looks slightly different in each life," Steve clarified. "He's remained in power for a while as Snow; from what a few of our contacts in the Capitol have gathered, his 'family', meaning him, have been responsible for most major societial developments in the last few decades…"

Steve didn't bother to finish that sentence, but the expression on the faces of the other Avengers confirmed that they'd realised what he was implying

"So… you're saying that _Snow _was responsible for the Games in the first place?" Bruce asked, voicing what we had all realised. "Why?"

"I think it's his way of proving that everyone who hunted him as the Hulk was wrong," Steve said. "In Snow's warped mind, people always hunted him as though he were the monster, but now he's built up this brave new world for the survivors of an unimaginable holocaust, and he's the benevolent guardian while humanity goes along with simple threats to raise their children as monsters who'll kill each other on the slightest excuse."

"Slightest excuse?" I repeated incredulously. "He basically threatened to kill my _family_ if I didn't go along with what he wanted-"

"That's how _he _perceives it, and that's only a guess; I'm not saying I agree with it," Steve said, looking firmly at me for a moment before he looked back at the rest of us. "The point is that he's been in control for years, and he's probably reaching the point where he'll fake Snow's death and spend some years underground before resurfacing again; Katniss's rebellion gave us a reason to attack now, and we're going to take it."

"That's why you decided to do this now?" Clint asked, indicating himself and the other three Avengers. "You want to take him out while he's still visible?"

"That's one factor, yes," Steve said, nodding at Clint. "As I said, another factor to consider is the simple fact that Katniss's actions have inspired a greater atmosphere for potential rebellion than anything I've seen since I woke up; people have complained about the Games, but after District Thirteen fell, they've never believed resistance was possible until Katniss and Peeta survived their Games."

"But… why bring _us_ here?" Bruce asked, looking uncertainly at Steve. "Why go this far to try and stop him?"

Looking thoughtfully at Bruce for a moment, Steve simply stood in silence before he nodded, evidently having come to a decision.

"I could say something about how I still believe in heroes and their ability to stand up for what's right regardless of the cost or the foe they're facing," he began, his gaze fixed on Bruce as he spoke, "but, in the end, while I do believe that you can prevail against Snow if we give it everything we have, it comes down to this; I want to prove that Snow is wrong."

"Which is why you brought us here?" Natasha asked. "What can we do to accomplish that?"

"I don't know if there's anything after this life or not," Steve began, looking solemnly over at Natasha as he spoke. "After experiencing over three centuries in stops and starts, outliving everyone around you, you tend to lose what faith you had that there's something better behind it all."

Bruce and the assassins simply nodded in agreement, but Tony stood in silence, and I noticed that Natasha seemed slightly perturbed at something; whether it was something Steve had said, or something his words had reminded them of, I didn't know and this wasn't the time to ask.

"What I do know," Steve continued, "is that, if I die- and I'm fairly sure I will eventually, no matter what lucky breaks have let me live this long- I couldn't go knowing that this was what had become of my friend, not without trying to . If Bruce- _this _Bruce, the Bruce I know and respect- sees what he will become, maybe it will somehow, some way, ensure that he will not become that thing in your world… and maybe- less likely, but maybe- Snow will see the gap between what he is and what he was… and realise what a nightmare he's become."

"Make him see how far he's fallen and throw him off-balance emotionally while we're beating him to a pulp?" Tony asked, smiling in a manner that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"In a best-case scenario, yes," Steve said, before he turned his attention back to me. "So, unless you have further questions, shall we see about putting Plan A into action?"

"Which is?" Clint asked.

"What else?" Steve replied, as he turned to look directly at Bruce. "A direct assault."


	5. Past Versus Future- Round One

Disclaimer: _Avengers _and _Hunger Games_ belong to their relevant owners; I merely borrow them to write this story

Feedback: Always a pleasure to receive.

AN: Hope you enjoy this chapter; for the record- and for those who know the movies better than the comics- I took a few ideas for this fight with the Maestro from the comic storyline 'Future Imperfect', which featured the debut of the comic Maestro, but I've made a few changes to accommodate the lower mentality of the movie-Hulk at this point in his existence (In the comics the Hulk was in his 'Professor Hulk' stage, where Bruce was basically the one in control of the Hulk, when he and the Maestro fought)

A Man Like No Other

As far as plans of attack went, I had to admit that I liked Steve's plan far more than some of the plans I'd overheard the residents of District Thirteen discussing during my earlier recovery; not only was I given the chance to provide some input, but it actually relied on attacking the Capitol, rather than trying to attack various districts as part of some kind of statement.

I still couldn't quite believe that Steve had the authority to discreetly order a hovership to take off within the hour after he originally requested it, but I wasn't going to question it; anyone who could command the four Avengers I'd seen so far along with an actual _god_- I was still unclear on just how powerful Thor was meant to be but he definitely sounded like he'd been fairly strong- could probably make Gale compliment the Capitol if he had to.

For the current 'mission', the hovership's crew consisted of only three of us; Natasha was piloting the ship- apparently it was similar in design to something they'd used back in their time when they needed to travel- and Bruce was sitting in the back with me. The other Avengers had remained back at District Thirteen for the moment- Tony was apparently working on his suits and Clint wanted to take stock of the armoury with Steve's help- but they all appeared confident that, if this plan worked out, Natasha and I would be all the back-up Bruce would need.

Steve had even provided me with an outfit that had been designed by Cinna before his death, which he'd managed to acquire shortly after my arrival and kept in storage until I was ready; the clothing was predominately black, with some white folds under the arms that resembled wings, along with a curved helmet and breastplate- the plate apparently reinforced around my heart- that added to the bird-like impression that Cinna had clearly been trying to create. According to Steve, the final version would include additional weapons hidden in the boots and around the belt, but he felt that this relatively unarmed version would do for the moment. Apparently, Beetee was designing a bow and arrows for me as part of this uniform, but it would have taken too long to get through the security measures between us and the armoury to acquire whatever he had at the moment, so I was simply using Clint's weapons for the moment; the older archer had apparently been satisfied with Steve's word that I could be trusted with his weapons.

Personally, I was slightly apprehensive about using these arrows- Clint had mentioned that he had a few arrows that had some extra features beyond just being sharp; it was only natural that I'd be worried about firing something that could actually _explode_ if I took too long to use it- but this wasn't the time to start panicking about that; I had been instructed on how to set new arrows, and that would have to be enough…

"We're nearly there," Natasha said, taking my thoughts back to the matter at hand as I looked back at her, Bruce joining me. "Bruce, when we get there, do you want me to land-?"

"Just let me jump out," Bruce said, looking grimly at her. "I'll transform before I hit the ground."

"All right," Natasha said, turning her attention to me. "I can manage the hovership's weapons easily enough, and Katniss can take charge of speaking if we need to say anything to anyone down there-"

"_Me_?" I said, looking at Natasha in shock. "I… I'm not really a good public speaker…"

"Just say what you really feel about this," Bruce said, looking over at me with a slight smile. "Honesty's better than anything else you could deliver right now."

I wasn't sure if I agreed with that statement, but I was save from thinking about it when Bruce stood up and removed his shirt, tossing it to the side as he looked back at Natasha.

"Keep a hold of that, could you?" he said to the assassin with a slight smile. "I like that shirt."

"Understood," Natasha said, smiling briefly back at him. "Good luck."

With that statement made, Bruce walked up to the hovership's side door, opened the hatch, looked backwards to us both a brief smile, and stepped out of the hatch. As I ran over to watch him fall, I briefly registered the Capitol below us- the vast white buildings, the shining windows, the people scattered like ants below us- but then a loud roar drew my attention back to what had once been Bruce but was now a large green creature easily twice the size that he'd been, and I was focused on my first real-life impression of what could only be the Hulk.

I'd known from the Avengers' descriptions and the brief clip that Steve had shown us of the Maestro that the Hulk was large, but seeing him on a screen and seeing him in action, even at a distance, was something different. The Hulk moved with a speed and grace that was surprising for someone of that bulk- Marvel, Cato and Thresh had been fast, but I'd still been fairly sure that I was faster than them, even if I never had a reason to test myself against Thresh- but it was his sheer strength that was the most intimidating thing about him, the green creature punching through walls of solid stone with the amount of effort I'd have needed to punch through firmly-held paper.

As the Hulk began to tear through the buildings in front of him, I tried not to think too much about the possibility that we could be killing people that felt like Cinna and didn't actually care about the Capitol's agenda; the Capitol had started this war, and Steve had given us a location where Snow was apparently certain to have appointed some of his more loyal Peacekeepers and other supporters.

The only thing we could do now was stand back and watch as the Hulk tore through the buildings around him like they were tissue paper, demonstrating a strength so great I could hardly imagine that the man I'd met earlier was capable of such raw power…

"They're sending out Peacekeepers!" I yelled as I noticed other hovercraft emerging from further within the Capitol to head towards our location.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, flicking a couple of switches on the console, followed by a strange sound from outside the ship as though panels were moving back. "We've got guns as well as your arrows, and from what Steve told us about your capabilities, there's nothing these Peacekeepers have to throw at us that Hulk can't handle."

I didn't bother to question the Avenger' words; moving over to the still-open hatch, I raised my bow, set one of the explosive arrows that Clint had told me about to the quiver, and fired it at the nearest hovercraft in a relatively straight line from my current angle. For a moment, I wasn't sure if it was going to work- I hadn't exactly fired arrows in these conditions before- but then the opposing hovercraft's left wing exploded and I knew that I'd made the right call; I hadn't hit my original target, but I'd still done damage. As the hovercraft I'd hit began to spiral into a crash, Natasha swung the ship around to fire our weapons at the rest of the small fleet approaching us, the ship moving so quickly that we were easily able to evade the other hovercrafts' attempts to fire back while delivering what looked like a significant amount of punishment from their end. I launched another couple of explosive arrows when the opportunity arose, but in the end it was mainly thanks to Natasha's work that we took out the small fleet attacking us so quickly.

As the last ship fell from the sky, I turned my attention to the Hulk's rampage on the ground, three buildings having already fallen completely into rubble while others seemed on the verge of collapse, before I heard a loud roar coming from another building before a second green figure leapt from further into the Capitol to crash down on the street in front of the Hulk, prompting the Hulk to turn around in the direction of the crash.

As the other figure stood up, Natasha activated a nearby video screen to provide a closer look at the fight below us- there must have been cameras somewhere on the ship's hull that I hadn't noticed earlier- and my eyes widened as I took in the new form of the man who had ruled Panem for so long.

His face was significantly different, of course- aside from it being green, he had a particularly prominent forehead, to the point that it was virtually hanging over his eyes- but the distinctive white hair and beard were cut in a style that I clearly recognised from my last meeting with Snow. Unlike the tattered trousers worn by the Hulk, or Snow's elegant suits, the Maestro was dressed in what I could only think of a purple waistcoat and dark blue trousers, with gold bands around his forearms and golden shoulder-pads, along with thick brown boots.

"Well well," the Maestro said, in a deep voice that became all the more audible as Natasha adjusted the camera's volume to better detect what was being said at the other end. "So Captain Rogers finally became desperate enough to try and recreate me…"

I'd always known that I wasn't exactly the most brilliant thinker even before the Games, but I didn't need long to realise what the Maestro was thinking; since he probably didn't know about Steve's time machine, he probably assumed that the Hulk he was facing was just someone who'd been subjected to the same process that gave Bruce Banner his powers in the first place.

"Get me where he can see me," I said, looking impulsively at Natasha. Apparently understanding what I was thinking, Natasha simply nodded in response as she spun the ship around to position the door that I was standing at directly in front of the Maestro. I paused for a moment to make sure that my helmet was straight- it might not really disguise me, but it added to the effect- before I stepped up to the door, glaring down at the green man in blue and purple.

"Maestro!" I yelled, keeping hold of the handle on the side of the door as I glared down at the distinctive form of my adversary on the ground below me, the right words coming to me as I spoke. "This is Mockingjay, speaking for the Avengers! We are here to inform you that your crimes against Panem _will _be avenged!"

"Avengers?" the large green figure said, looking up at the hovercraft with a suspicious glare, only for his gaze to settle on the front of the ship, his expression immediately shifting to something that I would have considered grief if it came from anyone other than President Snow. "Natasha…?"

Neither of us had the chance to question what the Maestro was talking about as the Hulk suddenly crashed into him from the side, lashing out with a series of wild punches. The first few blows struck home, but the Maestro soon managed to collect himself and start deflecting the blows as we ascended out of harm's way, leaving me to turn my attention back to the video screen. I knew little about hand-to-hand combat- whenever I'd been in the Games my strategy had always been to grab what I needed at the Cornucopia and then strike at long-range with whatever I could find; I'd always tried to avoid being in a position where close-quarter combat was necessary- but even I could see that Hulk's assaults were practically random where the Maestro was clearly thinking about what he was doing.

"If Natasha's here…" the Maestro said, his eyes narrowing as he thoughtfully studied the Hulk for a moment before they widened in understanding. "You're really _him_, aren't you? You're me…"

"NO!" the Hulk roared, a sudden uppercut leaving the Maestro dazed as he clutched at his injured jaw. "Maestro _monster_! Hulk _hate _Maestro!"

"Can we-?" I asked, looking over at Natasha.

"They're moving too fast, and District Thirteen has nothing that could hurt either the Hulk or the Maestro at this range without causing significant collateral damage," Natasha said, even as her gaze remained fixed on the battle being waged below us. "Keep an eye on the screen and wait for the moment!"

Looking back at the fight, I saw that the two green figures had ceased their exchange of blows and were now circling each other warily, reminding me of Buttercup attempting to exert his dominance over another cat in the area.

"He brought you here when you were still a moron, mmm?" the Maestro said, looking mockingly at the Hulk, his jaw moving more easily with each syllable. "Well, that explains what _she's_ doing here, even if I can't imagine what-"

"Talk too much," Hulk said, as he suddenly landed a powerful blow on Maestro's chest, resulting in an audible crack that sent the Maestro staggering as he clutched at his side, even as he glared disdainfully at the Hulk.

"Away with you, you ridiculous child," the white-bearded figure said, hitting the Hulk with a back-handed punch that sent the Hulk flying, the Maestro clearly still willing to fight even as one hand protectively held his chest where the Hulk had just struck it. "Do you even understand why you're here to fight me? I have brought peace-"

"Kill for fun," the Hulk said, literally spitting at Maestro before he roared and charged at the older man, striking the Maestro's face with such force that I saw a streak of what I would have considered blood if it weren't for its green tint appear on the Maestro's beard around his mouth. Once again, I was tempted to try and launch an arrow, but they were both moving too quickly for me to aim; even if I could be sure I wouldn't hit the Hulk, at the rate the Maestro could move he could probably catch the arrow before it struck him…

"You _dare_?!" the Maestro roared, my attention re-focusing on the two green men as Maestro launched another powerful punch at his younger self, this one striking the Hulk's skull with such force that it left a deep gash that the Hulk reached up to examine with one hand.

"Maestro make Hulk bleed…" the Hulk said, staring at the blood dripping from his latest head wound before he looked back at the Maestro, charging towards him as he spoke. "Now Hulk _extra _mad!"

As he charged at the Maestro with a loud roar, I momentarily hoped that he could pull it off, but that hope was dashed as the Maestro grabbed Hulk's outstretched arm, swung him around like some kind of sling, and threw him into the upper level of a nearby building (I briefly noted that the Maestro didn't seem to be particularly concerned about collateral damage, considering that this was the city he was in charge of, but decided it wasn't worth wondering about it; considering Snow's propaganda, he'd probably end up claiming that the Hulk was the only one who'd done anything).

"Rogers bringing you here was an example of his short-sightedness, Hulk," the Maestro said, glaring mockingly at the Hulk as my latest ally looked at Maestro from his position at the top of the building. "If he'd managed to find Thor from the past, he might have been able to match my power, and there are so many other groups who could have stymied me if they worked together… but you?"

Reinforcing the idea that I was looking at a changed Snow rather than anyone else, the Maestro actually smiled in that same condescending manner as he looked at the Hulk, the expression familiar despite the distance between him and our hovercraft; video shouldn't be able to pick up that much. "Quite frankly, there's nothing that you can do that I don't know how to counter already; you might have been incredible in the past, but now you're redundant at-"

"NO MORE BIG WORDS!" the Hulk roared, leaping down towards his other self, feet outstretched as he aimed at the Maestro. "HULK-!"

"Smash," the Maestro interjected, launching a counter-punch of his own that sent Hulk crashing to the ground behind him, head-first, with such force that I was amazed that Hulk was able to get back up at all, never mind how quickly he managed to do so.

"A valiant effort, Hulk, considering your current state, but ultimately pointless," the Maestro said, looking mockingly at the Hulk. "I really expected better of you… _Banner_."

"SHUT UP!" Hulk roared, once again swinging his fists, only for the Maestro to neatly step backwards before either blow could connect, subsequently grabbing the Hulk's fist as he launched a new blow at the Maestro's face.

"Game's over, Bruce," the Maestro said mockingly. "I saw that one coming two centuries away."

As the Maestro forced Hulk to the ground and one hand behind his back, I was tempted to try another arrow, but I couldn't think what to choose; considering that I'd seen the Hulk throwing off bullets earlier, anything strong enough to injure the Maestro would probably endanger the Hulk as well…

"You time-hopping, green-skinned buffoon," the Maestro said, glaring arrogantly at the Hulk. "Did you think that you'd just sweep in here and triumph, waving your idiotic righteousness like a flag? This is _my _world, Banner, and here, I-"

"_Sing soprano_," Hulk muttered, ramming his fist into the Maestro's groin, prompting the Maestro to let out a satisfying scream of agony as the Hulk hauled him up into the air and slammed him into the ground head-first.

For a moment, as the Hulk turned to roar in triumph and I grinned at the sight of President Snow dealt such a painful and humiliating blow, I thought that we had just pulled it off…

"_HULK_!" Natasha's voice yelled over the hovercraft's radio, drawing my attention to where the Maestro was getting back to his feet. "Look-!"

As I watched in horror, too far away to shoot anything and the Hulk moving too slowly to save himself, the Maestro grabbed the Hulk's head and twisted it sharply to the side, creating a crack that reminded me of the moment when Cato killed the District Three tribute, but all the more terrifying now…

"NO!" I screamed, raising the bow once more as the Hulk fell- I didn't know what arrow I had set, I only knew that I had to shoot _something_- only for Natasha to spin the hovership around and fly away as the Maestro looked up at us, depriving me of my shot before I could do more than start to line it up.

"What are you _doing_?" I yelled, walking over to glare indignantly at Natasha as she closed the hovership door. "We can't just leave Bruce-!"

"We have no way to rescue him right now and no means of holding the Maestro off even if we could get down that far," Natasha said, looking back at me with a glare that seemed so much darker than anything I had seen before, as though she was fighting to maintain control. "Bruce's abilities as the Hulk include an accelerated ability to heal, and the Maestro isn't going to just ignore the fact that Bruce is technically him no matter what alternate timeline factors are taken into account; whatever else he wants with you and me, he'll want to take Bruce prisoner rather than kill him outright."

I thought about asking what Natasha thought Snow would actually do with Bruce, but as the hovercraft turned around and hurtled back towards District Thirteen, I knew that this wasn't the time to worry about that; we had to focus on getting to safety.

Once we had the other Avengers available, _then_ we could worry about coming up with a plan to save Bruce.

I just hoped that Snow wouldn't have much opportunity to do anything…

* * *

AN 2: Next chapter marks our first shift in perspective, as we look at what Steve, Tony and Clint have been doing back in District Thirteen during this fight…


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